Annie Cresta: The Hunger Games Story
by Mme.CrazyHorse
Summary: This is, as the title says, a story about Annie Cresta's Hunger Games experience. It will cover her relationship with Finnick in one of the early chapters
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, this is my first shot at a hunger games fanfic. Reviews are encouraged. If you're going to criticize, please be constructive, but good reviews are appreciated. ;) My punctuations are probably off. Sorry about that. But yeah, I hope you enjoy. I only own the idea for this story.**

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All eyes were on me, but I couldn't remember how to move. Had that really been my name or had I just imagined it? Was it even _MY_ name at all? 'Annie Cresta.' It sounded like it was a phrase spoken in tongue I wasn't familiar with, but I knew deep down _exactly_ what it meant. Like I said, all eyes were on me.

Each step I took seemed like an eternity. Every time I lifted one of my feet, it felt like lifting a thousand pounds, but eventually I reached the top of the platform. I knew people were speaking, but my brain didn't take the time to comprehend what was being said. What little awareness I had left in me was drawn to the crowd.

I saw Kendrick Prisnee, a boy a year above me in school, step out from crowd and make his way to the top to join me. On the surface, he didn't seem quite as frightened as I was. In fact, he seemed rather cool and collected, even smiling toward the camera. I must have looked like a mess standing next to him. I tried to smile too, but it was as if all the muscles in my face had frozen in place.

I couldn't bring myself to believe that this was really happening. Of course, I always knew there was the possibility that it _could_ happen, but the thought had only been a fleeting one, passing in and out of my mind without sticking. It never seemed likely that I would be picked. District Four was a one of the biggest districts. When the Reapings took place every year, tens of _thousands_ of children gathered to participate. I was just a drop in a huge ocean, but fate, as it happened, picked me, and as I shook Kendrick's hand, I started to realize that there was no going back. I was now a just another player in a game everyone would forget about just in time for the next Reaping.

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The train whistle screamed in my ears as I took in what would most likely be the last moments I ever spent in District Four. The sun was hot, and the breeze carried the scent of the ocean. That was the one thing I was going to miss the most: the ocean breeze. I had no family to lose. I was an only child, and both my parents had passed when the influenza epidemic came to our district. I had no real friends to speak of. The only thing I had ever been able to depend on to be there when I needed it was the ocean breeze. And in my last moments it was there for me still. A lot of the anxiety I had felt on that stage blew away with the breeze. But all good things must end eventually.

Mags, the women who was in charge of 'handling' me squeezed my shoulder. "Let's go," she sighed, stepping onto the train. I took one last look at the only home I had ever known before stepping onto the train, and into what was most likely going to be the rest of my life.

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I spent the first few hours on the train in my room, opening and closing my eyes thinking that, if I did it enough times, I would open my eyes to find myself woken from a dream. As time went by I began to realize that what I was doing was stupid and there was no waking up for me, but that didn't seem to stop me, so I continued.

I don't know how long I was in there before I heard a knock at my door. "Annie?... Annie, it's Mags. It's time for dinner. When you're ready, we're four cars to the left." I didn't think I was hungry, which is strange, because it seemed like before the Reaping, I was always hungry. But I knew I needed to eat something, so I made my way to the dinner car.

When I walked into the room, I was met by four faces: my handler Mags, Kendrick, our district's most recent and most famous winner Finnick Odair, and District Four's Hunger Games representative Myana Trianu. Finnick and Kendrick both seemed deeply engrossed in a conversation about something I hadn't heard and didn't seem to notice my presence but Mags and Myana both smiled at me warmly. Mags pushed the seat next to her out with her foot, nodding her head as if to say she wanted me to sit there, so I took the hint.

For the whole meal she didn't say a word to me, nor did anybody else. I was left completely alone with my thoughts, and as the minutes passed, and the Finnick and Kendrick continued discussing what I now understood to be survival tips, I began to realize that I knew nothing about surviving, in any setting. Without knowing it, I was slowly coming to the understanding that I wasn't going to survive. I didn't know how to hunt, or use a weapon. I had no measurable upper or lower body strength and would be less than useless in a fight. What I did know was how to identify plant life.

When I was still living at the orphanage, I was assigned to work in the library, which excused me from the labors of fishing which was the profession of most of the inhabitants of District Four. When I had down time, I would immerse myself in books about plants. It had started as merely a fascination with flowers, but over time I had expanded my interest to other types of vegetation. I wasn't an expert by any means, but I did have a decent understanding of what I could and could not eat. But that was all I had. That wasn't going to save me in the long run.

"…Annie? Annie?" I snapped back into reality as I heard my name. Mags, who had been the one speaking to me was looking at me with concern in her eyes. Realizing that everyone was staring at me expectantly, I spoke.

"I'm sorry? I was somewhere else. What did you say?" my voice came out scratchy. It suddenly dawned on me that that had been the first time I had spoken since before the Reaping.

"Are you alright?" she said. I knew this was not the question she had asked before, but she was probably completely justified in asking.

"I'm fine," I assured her, and the funny part was that I wasn't lying. I did feel fine. Now that I had come the terms with the fact that I was most definitely going to die, I felt absolutely…fine. But that didn't seem right. Shouldn't I be crying? Screaming? Throwing some sort of Tantrum? I was going to die in just matter of weeks, optimistically. I should feel something, but all I felt was fine.

"Are you sure?" She asked, and I nodded. She seemed skeptical, but continued on, "Finnick and I just went over all the particulars of what is going to happen once we reach the capital. I asked if you had any questions, but I see that I'll have to go over everything again."

I felt bad for not listening. While she was sitting there trying to help me, I was sitting back and throwing myself a little pity party. "I'm sorry," I said, "I'll try to pay better attention." She gave me a small lopsided smile that made the corners of her eyes crinkle in a comforting way, but Finnick gave me a look that said I was a waste of time and energy. I couldn't blame him. Kendrick was tall, handsome, healthy, and strong. He knew how to work with his hands. Cleaning fish had taught him how to handle a knife, and years of fishing had sculpted him into an ideal tribute. He had a face Finnick could sell to an audience like his handler had sold his.

I on the other hand was gangly and pale by comparison. My hair had never seen a comb, and I had no useful skills to offer. All I could do now was get as much information out of Mags and our instructors as I could before being sent to my death. If I were Finnick, I would have looked at me that way as well. Mags leaned in toward me and began to repeat everything she had said before. This time I listened. When she finished she asked me if I understood. When I nodded she smiled again, but as I looked over to Finnick I caught him giving me that look again before turning back to Kendrick. 'Well,' I thought, 'at least I have Mags… for now.'

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**Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I intend to tell this as her whole Hunger Games story while incorporating her relationship with Finnick into it probably starting next chapter. Once again, reviews are encouraged. I don't know how you feel about where this story is going unless you talk to me. ;) REVIEW! **

**-MmeCrazyHorse**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here we go! Chapter 2! REVIEW! My ability to punctuate sucks! Sorry! REVIEW!**

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It took us four whole days to reach the capital, and the first two nights might as well have been the two longest nights of my life. If I thought Finnick saw me as nothing but a distraction before, he spent the next couple of days making me feel like a devastatingly crushing burden. Every time he and I were in the same room, he gave me the same look he had given me at dinner. When I asked him questions he would bluntly direct his answers toward Kendrick.

It seemed like the only person on my side was Mags. When Finnick ignored my questions, she gave me answers. When he gave me 'the look' she offered me one of her friendly lopsided smiles. When I lost track of time, she made sure I was getting enough to eat and drink. She was constantly encouraging me to ask her any and all questions I had. Unfortunately, Mags didn't have all the answers I needed, just as Finnick didn't have all the answers for Kendrick. The only difference was when Finnick didn't know an answer, Kendrick could ask Mags and she would answer him as best she could.

Kendrick, for his part, seemed completely unfazed by what was going on. Though he had plenty of opportunities to ask questions, he didn't. Probably because he was getting the answers to all the questions _I _asked Finnick. He must have gotten some pretty good tips on the first night at dinner because I rarely heard him ask a question. Maybe my burning need for answers was fueled by the fact that I had missed some crucial life lessons that could only be obtained by living the life of a fisherman. I couldn't see any other reason for his behavior.

I had never spoken to him in school, but from a far he had appeared to have a kind face. There was always a hint of a smile on his lips, but up close he was a different person entirely. On our first night on the train, Finnick discussed with him the statistics of life in the arena, saying that half the tributes would probably be dead before the first night ended.

"By that, he means you." Kendrick called across the table, nodding at me. I only looked at him, surprised that he acknowledged me at all.

"Keep your breath to cool your soup," Mags hissed. "You're confident now, but the arena changes people. It has a tendency to make the weak strong, leaving the confident ones to fall at their feet. For all you know, this girl could very well be our next Champion." When Mags said the word 'champion,' it sounded like it was the cause of a bad taste in her mouth. Something she was trying to get rid of.

Finnick didn't respond, but I could tell he agreed with Kendrick. Hell, _I_ agreed with Kendrick. I think Mags saw this in my eyes, because the very next morning she took me aside and began to instruct me on how to survive the first day. We covered several topics ranging from how to find water, to where it was safe to sleep at night. She described to process of setting traps to hunt, and gathering edible plants.

"But what about combat?" I sighed in exasperation. "I don't know how to defend myself. What if I'm put a position that _requires_ physical contact? _That's_ what I need to start learning now. I can worry about food later. I'll be _murdered_ before I die of starvation." I knew I wouldn't win the Hunger Games, but that didn't mean I wouldn't die trying. It wasn't as if I was suicidal, just realistic.

"I _wish_ I could help you there," she said, "I really do, but _I_ didn't win the games because I could fight. I used my brain. If _you_ want to learn how to fight, you'll need to talk to Finnick."

"I've _tried_ to talk to him, but he doesn't _exactly_ seem interested in helping me. Talking to him is like talking to a wall." I sighed.

"I'll talk to him," she assured me, "but in the meantime, I want you to stay _focused_ on what we've discussed today." I agreed, and we went our separate ways. I knew I would have the opportunity to learn combat during training, but I didn't want to look like a fool practicing in front of the other tributes if I didn't have to. Doing so would only make me an easier target.

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Later that night, after Kendrick had excused himself to go to bed, I followed his lead. The only difference was, once I left the car, I kept my ear pressed to the door. I wasn't going to wait for one of them to tell me whether Finnick would train me or not. As the minutes ticked by, it began to seem like she wasn't going to mention it. Every time I heard a noise my ears would perk up only for the silence to continue, but eventually I heard her clear her throat.

"So…" she said

"So…" he repeated, sounding only half focused on the fact that she was speaking to him.

"So, you're doing it again." She said pointedly.

There was a noise that sound like someone shifting in their chair and then, "Doing what exactly?"

"You're picking favorites again. It's not fair to Annie. She needs your help, just as much as the boy, and you know it." Her voice sounded hard, as if she was trying to break through some part of him that wasn't letting her in.

"I know you think what I'm doing is wrong, but I have my reasons. Out there, she has no chance. Kendrick is strong and charismatic. I can _sell_ that to the people. The girl, on the other hand, seems like she can hardly put two words together, and looks like she's never done a hard day's work in her life. No matter what you say, she has no chance." He said this last part stressing every syllable. "I don't see the point in getting attached to someone I know is going to die. What are the chances that she'll win the games over someone like Kendrick?"

"What were _our_ chances?" she said, her voice gradually getting louder. "I went into the games sure I was going to die. You went up against men twice your size and with twice your skill at the age of fourteen. The way I see it, she and the boy are equally likely to win these games. It's all a matter of chance. The least we can do is help both of them succeed in any way possible. _That_ is our responsibility."

There was a sharp silence that followed her speech. I began to think that maybe the discussion was over, but as I was about to move away from the door, I heard Finnick sigh. "So, why exactly are we having this conversation? I mean, _something_ must have motivated this."

"Well," Mags said, her voice level again, "Annie's been asking me to give her fighting tips, but you and I both know I don't know anything useful about fighting. You, on the other hand, do."

"So you want me to teach her how to throw a punch?" he asked in a flat tone.

"I _want_ you to teach her anything she asks of you. Can you, please, at least try?" her voice was pleading.

I heard, what sounded like someone getting up from their chair. "I'm going to bed." Finnick announced.

"Finnick…" she said softly. "Please."

There was a pause. "I'll try, but I'm not making any promises. We can start in the morning."

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**Alrighty, well there was chapter two. I hope you enjoyed. Please review and I'll update as soon as I possibly can! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Alrighty, here is chapter three. I really hope you enjoy. Again, my punctuation sucks, but PLEASE REVIEW! I do want feedback. If you have something constructive to say, I want to hear it! Not to mention, I don't mind hearing that I've done something well! ;) So, moving on… I only own the idea for THIS story. REVIEW… Chapter Three!**

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"You're not planting your feet. You _need _to plant your feet _firmly_ on the ground." I shifted my weight and moved back and forth on my heels feeling firmly planted.

"Okay. I'm ready." I said positively. He gave me a look that said he disagreed.

"This… is firmly planted?" he asked flatly, gesturing at me as if everything about my position was completely wrong. I didn't know what it was about Finnick, but every time he talked to me, I felt like a complete and utter idiot. However, I had no intention of letting him know how his disapproving eyes and cutting words affected me. It seemed strange that my version of 'growing up' followed more or less along the lines of 'sticks and stones.' If I was going to be in these games, I was going to need to put on a more intimidating game face than the one I had been wearing since the Reaping.

"_Yes_, this is planted. I feel _good_. I feel _strong_. So now, that I have achieved the 'firmly planted' portion of this lesson, may we _please_ proceed?" This was probably not the tone I should have taken with the person who, quite possibly, held the key to my life in his hands, but we had been working on this one thing for about an hour now, and it was beginning to get a bit old.

He grabbed my shoulder and pushed, causing my weight to shift backwards, which in turn caused me to stumble and fall. "Funny," he said, crossing his arms across his broad chest and hovering over me, "I didn't think planted was supposed to look like that."

I exhaled sharply as I got back on my feet and turned toward him. "Can't we at least _try_ something else? Maybe if we start in with the actual fighting, the 'planting' of myself will just… happen. Anyway, it's not as if I'll be just standing there if someone tries to attack me. I'll be moving."

"We are going to do this until you have it down. I don't understand how you're not getting this. Legs at least shoulder width apart…" he began physically adjusting my stance, moving my body this way and that way until I was in a solid position. "Before you can learn to fight with any amount of skill you have to learn the fundamentals, and when it comes to fighting, learning to stand properly is the fundamental of _ALL_ fundamentals. When I push you," he said while actually giving me a shove which I held up against much better than all the other times, "this is what it should end up looking like. No one should be able to move you from where you stand. You will _literally_ be standing your ground. Now, loosen up then get back into that position. We're going to do this until I'm sure you know what you're doing.

At the moment, I was annoyed with Finnick, but underneath all of my frustration was gratitude. That morning I had woken up to the sound of someone knocking on my door. I was exhausted and only took the effort to call out an annoyed, "What?" before burying my face in a particularly soft pillow.

"Wake up. If we're going to do this we're going to do it now. Meet me in car seven." And with that he was gone. If he had been talking to anyone else, they'd have thought he was crazy, but because I had eves dropped on his discussion with Mags just a couple of hours before, I knew exactly what he was talking about. My excitement to learn a few combat skills far outweighed my need for sleep, and so I rolled out of bed, and, after getting dressed to fight, made my way to car seven. If I'd known planting is all he was going to teach me, I probably would have stayed in bed, but he seemed determined to engrave the skill into me.

I stood straight and shook out my limbs for a minute before slowly moving my body back into the position he had put me in before. Again he gave me a good push, which I was able to stand against. "That's better, but you're going to need to be able to get into this position much faster. In the arena, you'll probably want to be in this position at all times. You never know when someone might attack. Shake yourself out again, and then try to get back in this position a little more quickly, but with the other leg in front."

Slowly but surely, after a few more tries I was able to move my body into the position he wanted in a matter of seconds, without much effort physically or mentally. "That's much… better." He said slowly, while simultaneously taking his hand and pushing by torso forward, correcting my 'better' position.

"Okay, so we can move on?" I asked. "You were saying before that I should be in this position for the entirety of the games. Were you joking, because I really don't think it's smart to stand in one place the whole time?"

"Which is why, I'm now going to teach you how to _walk_ in this position." As he said this, he walked back to the table and grabbed a bottle of water, chugging it down as if this morning's work had exhausted him. Looking back toward me, he leaned onto the table and said, "In the arena, you need to _always_ be on your toes, _always_ be on your guard." He stood and began to circle me slowly, evaluating my stance, and occasionally moving my limbs in different directions. His intense stare made me feel extremely uncomfortable, as if I was a disappointment to people everywhere. But, I put on what I hoped with an equally determined expression. "Relax for even a second and it could be the end of you. What I'm teaching you today is mostly just for a physical fight, not for using weapons. However, if you can get this down, you should always be ready to move one direction or the other in the event that the person who confronts you _does_ have a weapon."

"And in this scenario, do I ever get to 'throw a punch' or do I just 'firmly' walk away?" I said, sarcastically. I was walking a thin line using his example of 'throwing a punch,' but early rising did not suit me well, especially when I was not getting anything useful out of it.

He didn't seem to notice and continued. "If I'm being honest with you, your best chance would probably be to dodge and run. I don't think I'll have enough time to teach you the basics of hand to hand combat, and then move on to the basics of how to… I don't know… wield a sword." He said slowly, still circling and adjusting. "Frankly, given how long it's taken you to grasp the whole 'firm stance' concept, I'm not sure I'd want to be in the same room with you while you have a sword, or any other weapon for that matter, in your hands." I couldn't tell if he was teasing or not, but if he was, he seemed pretty pleased with his own joke. The corners of his mouth were turned up in a condescending smile, and his eyes were alive with the light beaming from the sun, which was just beginning to peak over the horizon.

He proceeded to teach me how to walk in the 'firm' position which I picked up rather easily seeing as how it was just stepping into the same position with the opposite leg over and over again. "Alright, I think you've got it." He said finally.

"Great, so now do I get to move on to punching?" he gave me a look that clearly said 'no.' "Blocking? _Kicking_?" I said the last one a little too hopefully.

"I think you've learned enough for this morning," he said firmly. "Go get some sleep, and we can continue on later."

"But I'm not tired. I want to learn now." I almost whined. It wasn't my proudest moment, or voice for that matter.

"Well, I'm done for now, so unless you want to keep practicing 'walking' by yourself, you're not going to learn anything new from me." With that he grabbed his bottle and began chugging again.

I was disappointed, but there was no way I was going to keep 'walking' around the car, so I started heading back to my room. "And Annie…" he said, which caused me to turn back towards him, thinking that maybe he was going to give me one _good_ piece of advice before I left. I turned just in time to catch a full bottle he had thrown in my direction. "…stay hydrated." And with that, he walked past me and out the door, while I stood there looking like an idiot.

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**Okay, there was chapter three. I hope everyone that reads it really enjoys it. And please review, I want to know what you think of the story so far. I promise, the relationship part will get better, but I just haven't gotten to a place where I feel comfortable fully incorporating it in yet. So once again REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!**


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